Laments of a Caged Doll
by Lucky-Angel135
Summary: Elizaveta Hedervary, a rather normal girl, moves into a mysterious mansion in Switzerland. It's obvious that the five boys that live there are hiding something, but when given the chance to find out what, does Elizaveta really want to know? AU
1. The Daisy

**HAHA I'M FINALLY WRITING A USUK FIC. XD**

**So, hello, everyone! This is Lucky from Lucky-Angel135, bringing you this new ficcie. It's actually posted under Wilted Boquet of Lies on our profile, but yeah, I decided to change the name to Laments of A Caged Doll. It fits more. XD**

**Okay, pairings! USUK (DEFINATELY), PruHun, SpaRom, Franada, RuChi, DenNor, slight SwitLiech for now. Since the plot's still under development, I might add more. Remember something, guys. You have to be patent for the all of the pairings listed just then to show up~ And this is written completely Lucky-style. Anyone know what that means? How about a hint for you SLK fans?**

**I planned Yellow's arc. Yeah. XD**

**Oh, a final warning. This is a REALLY, REALLY ABSTRACT FIC. I'm just warning you guys to keep an open mind, especially later on. Some things are just not possible in real life, duh. XD I'll warn you guys when we get to the part where you'l have to be really accepting~**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Hetalia. (Insert witty comment here.)

* * *

_Once upon a time._

_There was a girl._

_The girl was very pretty..._

_But she was very lonely._

_She had no one to play with. Her days were spent locked up in a magnificent cage that made her feel like she was not missing out in anything, when in reality, she was missing everything. Lifeless dolls were her only company—dolls that would do anything she wanted. The girl was used to not speaking, she didn't have any friends. She grew up around those emotionless models, and soon, in time, became equally blank._

_This girl was broken._

_But there was hope._

_She had a brother._

_Her brother was very smart. He felt very bad for his sister, knowing that she was different. She was special. She could make you re-live things, something that everyone would want to take from her. So he has to lock her up in the glass room, letting her to shine for everyone outside, but not allowing anyone to penetrate into the heart of the light._

_The girl became more and more depressed. She didn't shine as brightly anymore. She wanted to see someone. Anyone. Even her brother never visited her anymore. She never died—she turned back the clock inside the cage so she would never age. Her dolls continued on with her, never perishing, but never living at the same time. _

_Her brother worked around the clock. He wanted to make something, anything, to amuse his sister in her perpetual prison. He made her toys that sang and chirped, but none of them captured her attention. Finally, he decided to give her what her favorite toy was. Dolls. Dolls can play with her. Dolls can laugh with her. Dolls, he decided, that had feelings, that had life. He worked to accomplish his goal, driving himself madly towards a point that other humans would consider to be impossible. _

_He began with trying to turn dolls into humans. He spent millions of his inheritance money on trying to animate the un-living. Nothing worked. The dolls stayed as they were, silent and still._

_And then he tried turning humans into dolls._

_The success was mind blowing._

_With his successful group, he sent them to his sister, leaving another group as backup. However, after all this, the brother had spent too many days working on the Perfect Doll project. Without alerting his sister, he died._

_The girl met the first Doll the next day._

_He had walked up to the prison, something that no one had done in a very, very long time. He simply stood there for a while, staring at her curiously through the glass cage. She stared back. The girl hadn't seen anyone for the longest time. However, gathering her past memories, she could tell that he was beautiful. Beautiful to the point where she wondered if he was still human. They didn't exchange words. They simply stood there, staring at each other. And then the boy turned around and walked away. _

_The girl wanted to call after him, but her voice didn't work after centuries of no use._

_The next day there were two of them. The girl wanted to invite them in, but no one could penetrate the cage._

_The next day brought three more. The girl looked at them hungrily from her side of the glass, but couldn't reach them. This was the closest to humankind that she had been in decades. Her fingers were pressing against the glass, wishing desperately that somehow she could reach them._

_Meanwhile, the Perfect Dolls stared at the girl. All five of them were all impossibly beautiful and moved like dancers—like the perfect species of humans. Suddenly, the first boy cracked a smile, pressing his hand against where the girl's hand was. He would have touched her if not for the glass between them. The girl began crying, wanting to talk to them so badly._

_Then, he spoke._

"_Would you like to be our friend?"_

_The girl was speechless. She immediately tried to make her voice work again, but it felt like sandpaper had been stuffed down her windpipe. Wheezing sounds of all varieties came out before she was finally able to push out with all her might, "P-P-Please."_

_The first boy, the boy with his hand on the glass, smiled. _

_It shattered._

_The glass shards glimmered as they cascaded onto the ground. Suddenly the girl's hand was met by something warm and soft. Her eyes widened when she saw that her palm was touching the boy's. He simply smiled softly at her before sweeping her into a hug and stepping back into place with the others._

_The girl looked, stunned, at the five boys in front of her. She forced herself to speak again. This time it was easier. "H-H-How did you break into my world?" she asked. The girl was not used to having company. She hid behind a doll, not knowing how to do anything else. The simple perfections of the boys were dazzling in itself._

"_We came here because we were made for you," the first one said. And at once, all of her dolls disappeared, including the one that the girl had been hugging. She cried out with alarm, but the leader of the five Perfects shushed her. "Now, we will be your dolls."_

_From that moment on, the Perfect Dolls were inseparable from the girl. They played together. They cried together. They loved one another, and finally, the girl felt whole._

"The. End."

Elizavéta said the two words slowly and dramatically, both Peter and Ravis staring at her with wide eyes. They looked at her as she gently closed the book of fairy tales, which seemed to finally end their stupor. Peter actually jumped out of his bed, smiling broadly. "That was so cool, Lizzie! Where did you find that story? I never heard it before!"

Elizavéta chuckled, flicking Peter lightly on the nose before pushing him back down into his bed. "I found it in this flea market. It's a book of all of these Swiss fairy tales that someone really didn't seem to want." Elizavéta frowned down at the cover, rubbing her fingers along the torn binding.

"It looks really old," Ravis peeped up timidly from his covers. Elizavéta looked over, smiling at the other small boy. Ravis had his comforter pulled all the way up to his chin, which made him look smaller than usual. "Why would no one want it? It's such a nice book. And the cover's so pretty too."

"Well, for one, it's written in German." Elizavéta tucked a pouting Peter into his sheets, looking over her shoulder at Ravis. "Not many people can read German and translate it at the same time. I'm taking classes on it right now." She tweaked Peter's nose, making the boy squirm slightly. "Can _you_understand German, Petie?"

Peter seemed to sit up taller in his bed, jostling his covers again. "Of course I can," he said indignantly. "In fact, I'm taking classes too! Right now! In school! They're teaching German to us!"

Elizavéta laughed, passing the book of fairy tales to Ravis so he could look at the pictures. "Of course. And I suppose teaching German to a group of second graders would be an everyday occurrence now, right?"

"They're teaching the fifth graders Japanese," Peter said haughtily.

"I'm sure they are, sugar. Now will you stop jumping up like a jack-in-the-box? Your mom said to make sure that you guys get in bed at nine." Elizavéta leaned across Ravis's bed and pulled her IPod out of the dock, abruptly ending _Sweet Dreams_. Cries of protest immediately rose from Peter's bed, but Elizavéta raised her hand. "You're too young to listen to Beyoncé anyway."

Ravis offered the book back to Elizavéta, who took it. "But Ms. Lizzie, we listen to the Black Eyed Peas too."

"Well there's a parenting fail if I've ever seen one," Elizavéta laughed. "Tell you what. Mrs. and Mr. Galante don't get back until later, so why don't you guys sleep in the same bed for now." Peter jumped up with excitement. Elizavéta moved fast enough to set down the priceless book before the small boy tossed his arms around her.

"Can we? Really?" Elizavéta laughed.

"Yeah. And I seriously need a place to lie down. I've been working my butt off, trying to get these stupid biology papers written for school." She pried Peter's arms off of her waist and shooed him into Ravis's bed, which caused blankets and pillows to fly in the air as Peter made no hesitation in jumping into the other's covers. Elizavéta groaned at seeing the mess, falling backwards onto Peter's pillows and covering her eyes with an arm. "You two better fix that yourselves—I'm not getting up again."

"Yes, Ms. Lizzie," Ravis chirped. Elizavéta heard blankets shifting and some muffled giggles before everything was quiet once more. Of course, knowing that it was Ravis and Peter that she was babysitting, that silence was most certainly not to last. Elizavéta knew from personal experience that the best way to make Peter fall asleep is to knock him out with a baseball bat.

Though this time around, the disturbance didn't seem to come from either of the two. It happened to be the phone in Mr. and Mrs. Galante's room, ringing as if it was trying to save someone's life. Elizavéta groggily lifted her arm to look over at the two, who were staring at her with wide eyes. "Who wants to pick that up?" she asked.

"Not it!" Peter chirped immediately, ducking back into the covers. Ravis looked at him, at Elizavéta, who looked at him with raised eyebrows, and sighed. He gently slid out of the covers and padded out of the room in bare feet. Elizavéta could hear him walking down the hall and into his parents' room. Elizavéta frowned. Only a few people knew of the phone that Mrs. Galante kept in their bedroom. The calls made to there were usually business calls or calls of close family.

"Ravis Galante speaking, how may I help you?" Elizavéta heard the soft voice from down the hall advancing slowly towards them. She wished she could hear what was going on, but the phone in Ravis's bedroom was usually called only by his friends and had a different number than the phone that was in the master bedroom. "...Yes...Ms. Lizzie is here right now." Elizavéta shot up just as Peter sat up at the same time. Ravis stepped back into the room, looking very lost. He covered the speaker with a hand and looked at Elizavéta. "It's for you, Ms. Lizzie."

Elizavéta frowned but took the phone, pressing it to her ear, fully aware of the two little boys listening in. "Yes, this is Elizavéta Héderváry. Is there something I can do for you?" Elizavéta frowned when the only sound that responded to her question was some scuffling, a few mutters of, 'No, you say it!', 'I don't want to, you do it.', and 'It was your idea in the first place!' Finally, after hearing a sound that reminded Elizavéta vaguely of breaking glass, a slightly breathless and...British...voice answered.

"Er...I'm terribly sorry about the inconvenience of this call, Ms. Héderváry, but my..._acquaintance_ here—" (_"You take that back!"_) "—Was wondering if you might possibly have a book of German fairy tales, titled _Tales in a Glass Cage_? My _very brilliant_ acquaintance here accidentally lost it in a local park some time ago. We were informed that the book traveled hands to a shop in the global traveling flea market." There were more scuffles as the English person that Elizavéta had appeared to been talking to was shoved away by another louder voice.

"I know this area code!" the new voice shouted through the phone lines. Elizavéta winced at the force of the yell. "You're in America, aren't you?"

"Yes," Elizavéta answered cautiously. "And I happen to have the very book." She glanced quickly at the worn volume resting on Ravis's bed-stand. "What did you want with it, exactly?"

The person that was now on the phone exhaled in a slightly irritable way. "Look, can you, like, ship the book to an address in...say some other country? That book belongs to someone...really, really important. I'll pay for it and all that, but I seriously need that book soon. Preferably in ten minuets." Elizavéta gagged on her spit the same time at the Briton in the background did.

"_How unreasonable are you?_" the voice in the background demanded. "_It'll take ages for that book to get back to Switzerland from America!_"

"Switzerland?" Elizavéta asked abruptly. "Are you serious? I can't just ship this book over to Switzerland! And besides, I like it too! I'm not handing it over that easily! If you want it, you'll have to come get it yourself!"

There was silence on the other end.

"Well then...Arthur, book some flights to Maryland."

Ravis wondered vaguely if all of the blood draining from your face was a bad thing. Elizavéta looked as pale as a whiteboard.

The other speaker, Arthur, blew up in the background. "_You have got to be bloody insane! I'm not dragging my arse all the way to Maryland just to pick up a book! And besides, it's all your fault! Why am I coming along? I have no business in America! Just go by yourself, Alfred!_"

The current speaker, Alfred, didn't even bother covering the receiver. "Well, it would be no fun if I went to America all by myself. I haven't been there in ages, you know that!"

"_Get someone else to go for you!_"

"Who?" Alfred demanded. Elizavéta felt faintly ignored.

"_Gilbert! He needs to go do something productive for once! Send Gilbert over to America to pick up the bloody book!_"

"But...but..."

"_No buts! I don't want you all the way in America and then have a massive McDonald's bill be shipped back here!_"

"That only happened _once_, and even then, Vash payed for it all!"

"_Did he look like a happy man when he payed for it?_"

"_No_, but..."

"_Your question is answered_," Arthur snapped. Elizavéta heard clicks as the phone changed hands again. This time Arthur was louder. Elizavéta heard a muffled thud, almost as if someone just fell. "Thank you for speaking to us, Ms. Héderváry. We'll send someone over immediately to pick up the book. Have a nice day."

Elizavéta stared at the phone in shock. Did that really just happen? The events had played out like a badly written comedy or soap opera. She looked over at Peter and Ravis, who had heard everything. "Do you squirts think they'll actually come?" she asked them. Peter's mouth was hanging open, Ravis's entire frame was shaking.

"I hope not," Ravis whispered. "They scared me. I don't want that scary flea market person to come. I heard something breaking in the background."

"I heard _multiple _things breaking in the background. Ms. Lizzie, you have to hide that book! If they really do come here, they'll take it from you! And you didn't even read us the entire thing yet!" Peter said fervently, his eyes constantly flickering to the tattered volume set on Ravis's bedside. "You need to go into hiding! Join the mafia! Get the FBI's attention!"

Elizavéta looked at him, surprised for a moment, before laughing and patting both boys on the head. "Aha, Peter, you're so dramatic! Nothing like that would happen in real life. Don't worry about them! They were probably just some prank callers that just looked up some random number in the phone book. And besides, if they really were from Sweden—"

"Switzerland," Ravis reminded.

"Sorry, Switzerland; they still wouldn't be able to find us in all of Maryland!"

"They knew my number," Ravis whispered, shaking. "And they knew you were here, Ms. Lizzie. I'm scared. Are they really going to come?"

Elizavéta bent down and pressed a kiss to Ravis's forehead. "No one's going to come after you, dear. I promise. I'll tell Mr. and Mrs. Galante about this phone call and everything's gonna be okay, Rav-Rah. You two just get some sleep, it's way past your bedtime. I promise I'll wake you up before Mr. and Mrs. Galante come back so you guys don't look like you do this every time I babysit."

"Okay, Ms. Lizzie," Ravis giggled, forgetting about the strange phone call. Peter grinned at his friend and tackled him. Elizavéta scowled.

"But if you guys keep on tousling the sheets like that I'll make you regret it!"

~*~-~*~

"The kid's got a point," Chelle said, sipping noisily on her straw. She tilted her cup slightly, trying to get the last drops of the banana milkshake into her mouth. Elizavéta waited patiently for her best friend to finish scavenging before the dark-haired girl sighed, put the cup down, and covered one of Elizavéta's hands with her own. "There are plenty of stalkers after hot girls like us these days. You better watch your back, gal."

Elizavéta sighed, stirring her strawberry milkshake with her free hand, looking out around the mall food court. The rest of their group of friends had dissipated to storm Bath and Body Works and  
Sephoria in search of perfume for the school's winter dance. This year it would be an English sort of tea party theme, which the school was naturally going to blow itself up on. The girls would be wearing old dresses, the boys tailcoats, and classes would be canceled so the dance could be held in the morning, and everyone naturally had to go over their head to impress their dates. Elizavéta had found that her friends had been running around in panic for most of the morning.

"I don't want to pull a complete freak out though," she said, frowning down into a stubborn chunk of strawberry that clogged her straw. "I don't think it should be that serious. After all, all of this is just over one little book."

"Did you bring it?" Chelle pressed, drawing her hand back and leaning forward at the same time. She looked eager. Elizavéta hesitated, and then opened her purse and brought out the old book, laying it on the table between them. Chelle immediately snatched it up, her face falling when she saw it was written in German. "Well, I can see that this was well loved," she said, closing it again. "It looks so old, the binding's practically fallen off. What's it about?"

Elizavéta frowned at the volume, taking it into her arms. "I haven't finished it yet, but all the fairy tales seem to be connected. The first one was about a girl that had the ability to bend time." Chelle looked skeptic, but Elizavéta pressed on. "She was lonely, with only dolls to serve her company every day. Then her brother seemed to..._mutate_ these humans and make them become 'as Perfect as the girl'," Elizavéta quoted, flipping to that page. "Then they lived happily ever after."

Chelle sighed, tossing her cup away in a nearby trash bin. "That sounds like your typical Snow White. What about the next one?"

Elizavéta hesitated. "See...this is where it gets interesting." Chelle leaned forward, inviting her to explain. "The second one...it's about another girl. A different one. She's the first girl's enemy, apparently. One day, she went to where the first girl lived and took everything away from her. The mutated humans that were 'Perfect' immediately took to the new girl, who taught them to turn away from the first girl. The first girl was angry. It ended with the 'Perfect' humans dying, and the new girl dying afterward."

Chelle's eyes widened. "That's less than pleasant."

"I know, right?" Elizavéta sighed, running her finger along the edge of a page. "The first girl had everything that she could have possibly wanted with those 'Perfect' humans. And then the new girl's appearance made the first girl _kill_ her own 'Perfects'. She turned her own back against her closest friends. I can't imagine anyone trying to teach little children that moral."

"It must not be fairy tales then," Chelle said, frowning. She gently plucked the book from Elizavéta, turning the pages again. "Look at this. Everything looks like it was handwritten. And here." Elizavéta leaned forward, watching Chelle turn pages. They both paused when Chelle turned the page one more time, and nothing was on the back. "They stopped writing." Chelle looked up and met Elizavéta's green eyes. "Not mass produced material."

"We're talking about...a diary, then," Elizavéta said, her brows scrunching. "A...a journal. Why do you think those people might want it back then?"

"I thought you didn't believe that they'd actually come after you." Chelle's eyes sparkled with mirth. Elizavéta stared at her until she sighed, serious again. "It's probably important. Very important. That's usually the only reason people keep journals, right? Don't they just write down some important stuff that they don't want to forget?"

"Usually, I guess. But I don't know anyone that keeps journals anymore. It's usually just blogs these days. We live in the modern age, a few decades before the invention of the flying car."

Chelle laughed, rapping on the book. "That'd be something to see," she agreed, drumming her fingers on the table. "But I really don't think that those people who called you were safe, Liza. They even knew that you were babysitting the Galante's that day. I would watch my back."

"You've already told me that," Elizavéta said, forcing herself to laugh slightly. Chelle frowned and opened her mouth to argue before Elizavéta held up a finger. "Come on, girl, I know that they must be stalkers if they seriously called me at the Galante's. But still, what're the chances that some random people from Sweden would come and take the book away?"

"Switzerland," Chelle corrected, sighing. "And if I were you, Eli, I wouldn't only worry about the book. I'd be watching my own safety as well."

"Chelle-sy, I have a black belt in karate!" Elizavéta giggled. "I doubt that anyone would have that easy of an way with me. And even if they wanted to rape me, I know that I'm supposed to scream 'fire' and not 'rape'. Nothing's going to happen."

Chelle shook her head again, a frown on her face. "I have a _really_bad feeling about this..." Elizavéta's lips pinched together in slight irritation. Was her bestie really that hard to convince? She already said she was fine, didn't she?

"How about this then," the Hungarian girl leaned forward and rapped lightly on the table between the two girls. "Why don't you sleep over for a week? If the Swedish people—"

"_Swiss_."

"Yeah, them. If they show up in that time, you can help me fend them off! If they don't come until then, then we'll know that they're probably not going to come and you can go home knowing that I'm not going to disappear during the night! How does that sound?" Chelle looked at Elizavéta, knowing fully well that the girl was talking to her with the voice that she used when she was talking to the little kids that she babysat.

"...I'm staying for two weeks."

"One. Don't be so paranoid, Chelle."

"I'm not paranoid. I'm being reasonable. This are a group of pedophiles wanting to hunt you down, Lizzie. Two weeks."

"You don't have to stay at all. It's one week or nothing."

Chelle looked at her best friend with exasperation. "Don't you see I care about you? Why don't you ever listen? At one point, these people are going to break down your door, and all just for a book. I'm just trying to keep you safe, girl! A week and a half."

"And I've repeatedly told you, I can take care of myself! I'm a big girl, Chelle. I can stay home without getting killed. A week and a day." Elizavéta stuffed the book back into her purse, making Chelle wince with the force of her movements.

"Fine, a week and a day. Just...be careful with that, okay?" Elizavéta raised an eyebrow at this. "Well, everything's probably just going to get worse if you damage it in some way," Chelle stated, her brow furrowing with her vivid imagination. "They might get really mad at you...and then they might _really_ hurt you. They might get so mad that they would just attack you instead of getting the book!"

Elizavéta merely stared at her friend with the faintest confusion. Since when did people just suddenly jump out of shadows and strangle you to death? "You need to cut back on the horror novels, Chelle. Nothing like that happens in real life."

"I'm worried about _you_, Lizzie," Chelle sniffed. "If you don't want to take my warning, then fine, you don't have to. Just don't blame me when those 'Perfects' come and break down your door." Elizavéta laughed out loud.

"Jesus, Chelle, no one's stupid enough to actually break down a door."

If Elizavéta had known that within a month, she would be staring at a pissed albino man standing where her door used to stand, she definitely would not have said those words.

"Your house is fucking impossible to find, you know that?" the man spat, running a hand through his already tousled hair. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week and had dark bags under his eyes. He also happened to be leaning against one of the pillars on the porch of Elizavéta's house, looking as if it wasn't anything special that he should be there. "And you're really smart to have a friend over for such a long time. You must've known that I would come. Damn Alfred and Arthur," he added the last bit in a murderous mutter.

Elizavéta was stunned. She stood there at the door, frozen in place in her tank top and boy shorts. After all, it was five in the morning. Not ten minuets after Elizavéta had kicked out Chelle. Oh how she regretted that decision now. "Y-Y-You..."

The man raised an eyebrow. "Struck speechless by my awesomeness, huh? Don't worry about it, dude, it happens all the time."

Elizavéta recovered. She drew herself up higher. "For your information, I'm not _dude_. I happen to be a _girl_."

"Well, I'm _sor-ry_," the man snorted, as if amused. "So, _gal_, would you happen to have a book that my fucking acquaintance happened to loose halfway across the world? It's called _Tales in a Glass Cage_, and I know you have it. I just asked to be polite. Cause you know I'm such a gentleman." The man rolled his eyes here as if he was indulging in some personal joke.

Elizavéta's eyes narrowed. "How are you so sure that I have it?"

"Because Lovino is never wrong," he said simply. Elizavéta waited for some explanation of what he just said, but nothing came. She realized that the ball had been passed back to her.

"And you expect me to just hand it over?"

"Kinda, yeah."

"...You're Gilbert, right?"

The man's eyes instantly lit up. "Yeah! I knew my awesomeness was obvious from the start! Who else did you think it would be? Alfie? Artie? Naw, they wouldn't get their lazy asses off their bed."

"Their _bed_? As in _singular form_?!"

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Pshaw. Duh. They're so fucking gay for each other that they share a bed. Nothing new at our house. Feliciano and Lovino sleep together, but that's just because they're twins. And Lovino—" Gilbert stopped abruptly, pursing his lips together. "Never mind. You don't have to worry about it. Just gimme the book."

At this point, Elizavéta's mind was going double-time. _Our_house? Just what exactly was this place? What made it so special that two guys got to room with each other? Her mind flickered from Gilbert to the tattered book on her bedstand. What kind of place would send a single man halfway across the world to pick up some book? What kind of place would have people that could trace down a person? A small object in all of the world?

A spy agency, maybe? Where international boys of different nations came together, united through their similar beliefs? Elizavéta's unique mind started spinning. Chelle, although Elizavéta would often accuse her of being this, thought that Elizavéta was a very, very special sort of romanticist. She was the type that would parings would be the best, and had a very, very, _very_large variety of different shopping run-ins, mistaking someone's bed for another, and even intrusions in skinny-dipping. Her rabid fangirl ran in wild directions, and the prospect at seeing boys in an environment where they were _allowed_ to sleep together...

Ohoho.

"On one condition!" Elizavéta cried out suddenly, making Gilbert jump at the sheer volume of her voice. He also looked slightly wary when he saw the faintly maniacal glint in the girl's eyes. "I'm coming with you!"

Gilbert's attitude changed immediately. "What? Dude! No way!" Gilbert began making frantic motions with his hands, either telling her to back off or hand over the book so he could get the hell out of there. "No _way_ are you going back to the psych mansion with me! The guys would flip!"

"I don't mind. I can share a room with someone, just like all of them," Elizavéta pressed stubbornly. "Or if you have an extra room, I can stay in there."

"Your parents! Your family!" Gilbert sounded vaguely like he was choking in his haste to persuade Elizavéta to not go back with him. His hand gestures increased their speed. Elizavéta's curiosity was permanently piqued. Why, exactly, was Gilbert so desperate for her to not go with him? "Your mom and dad would go batshit if you suddenly decided to go to Switzerland!"

"They wouldn't mind," Elizavéta said, setting her jaw. And it was true. Her parent's could care less if she decided to jump off the Eiffel Tower to commit suicide. "So, you can book another plane ticket for me, right?" Gilbert gagged on air.

"Hell no! You're not coming!"

Then why was a happy Elizavéta sitting next to a very pissed Gilbert on a first class airplane to Switzerland not a day later?

These things really do work out strange, unexpected ways, don't they?

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**XD Reviews work wonders on a starving authoress's soul, loves~**


	2. The Burnet

**Aww, thanks for the reviews, everyone! You guys are dears and I love all of you!**

**This chappie hates me though. T^T Like seriously, I deleted entire pages and re-wrote entire paragraphs. The original would have given a lot more away...but I'm tryng to keep it happy and innocent for as long as I can. XD **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

* * *

"If you don't like it—"

"I love it!" Elizavéta cried, her hands clasped excitedly in front of her body as she jumped up and down with excitement. The bags that she had brought from America lay in a messy pile at her feet, knocked over by her excitement. Gilbert, who was unloading Elizavéta's bags from the car, set down the last suitcase with a sigh.

"I'm so fucking surprised," Gilbert muttered murderously under his breath.

The entire plane ride on Gilbert's privet jet was passed the same way. The albino man tried, time after time, to discourage Elizavéta from going to Switzerland with him. He even kept it up til the moment they landed down, taking a pause only when Elizavéta fell asleep on the plane. When she woke up...well, she was treated to the same terrible persuasion. However, when the plane landed down in the mansion's own airplane hanger, Gilbert lost hope.

Elizavéta, on the other hand, had been excited the entire flight. Even Gilbert's constant pestering couldn't take her down from cloud nine, where she was imagining a mansion of boys, a mansion of boys that share rooms, a mansion of boys that share _beds_. Later on, she completely forgot about paying attention to Gilbert because her mind began filling with things that should not be mentioned to little kids under the age of twelve.

Elizavéta stood, grinning madly at the gigantic mansion before her. It wasn't old fashioned in the least—she didn't see a long, winding cobble-stoned path and was slightly disappointed to find that there was no climbing ivy at all. The walls weren't bricked at all, and there wasn't a double-sided staircase up to a high-set door.

Instead, all of the house seemed to be made an eye-blinding ivory white color. There were gigantic arching see-through windows lined around all of the first floor while the windows on the second floor, though they were the same size, were darkly tinted. The door was pure white with pillars lining the front, holding up three balconies on the second floor that seemed to stem from tinted windows. The path up to the house was lined with some sort of flowering tree that was holding up large flowers with cream colored petals. The entire structure was set on a tall hill, overlooking a smaller building next to it that seemed to be connected through a balcony on the second floor.

"It's gorgeous! It's like a dream house!" Elizavéta squealed. "I can't believe you live here! I can't _believe_ you live here! I can't believe you can afford this place! It's so pretty!"

"_I_ can't believe that you can keep up jumping like that up and down for so fucking long," Gilbert said with disbelief, grabbing a few of Elizavéta's bags and starting to tow the luggage up the path. "You have some toed-up energizer bunny thing going on. Get your stuff. I need to explain to the guys why the hell a girl followed me home."

Elizavéta beamed. "You can get my stuff, and I can introduce myself," she said happily, dashing up the path to the house, leaving a blinking and slightly confused Gilbert behind her.

"W-W-Wait! Are you serious? I'm not carrying all of your shit!"

Elizavéta ignored him, running up onto the porch. The porch of the house extended around the entire perimeter of the house, and also happened to be where the pillars holding up the balconies on the second floor spawned. She raised a fist to knock on the door, but it seemed like the door swung open of it's own accord. She was immediately greeted by a boy with brown hair and equally warm eyes. He was wearing what looked like a white ensemble, and if anything of his was even slightly more of the ivory shade, then his clothes would blend right in with the house. He stood there for a moment, examining and grinning at Elizaveta, before laughing happily.

"It's you! Elizavéta! You're here!" the boy squealed with happiness, immediately wrapping his arms around Elizavéta's waist. "We've been waiting for you! We've already got your room all picked out! I hope you like white, Lizza-chan!" Elizavéta thought sarcastically that the entire house was white. "I'm Feliciano by the way, what's your name? Oh, sorry, I forgot I already knew!" Feliciano giggled here, smacking himself playfully on the forehead. "I guess I'm just used to asking. Come in, Lizza-chan! Come in!"

The inside of the house was as beautiful as the outside. The hallway for the upper level seemed to run around the entire of the interior, lined with a small fence-like barre that kept someone from falling down the lower floor. Elizavéta's eyes widened when she saw that the sunlight that fell in from the windows looked faintly multi-colored, creating small rainbows when it shined through the glass tables. There were no doors at all in the lower floor, except for the front door and the back door, so everything had a large open feeling.

Elizavéta's mouth gracelessly fell open as she allowed herself to be towed into a room that she saw from outside. A dark-auburn haired boy seemed to be lounging on the ivory white couch, flipping uninterestedly through a magazine as if it was everyday that Feliciano dragged some random girl through the house. He was also wearing white. Elizavéta was starting to feel out of place in her baby-doll top and skinny jeans. "Feliciano, close the door."

"No! I'm still outside!" Elizavéta heard from outside. She turned around to see Gilbert struggling up the walk with an armload of suitcases. He glared into the house with a passion of a thousand suns. Elizavéta couldn't see what Gilbert was so worried about. It wasn't like they were going to lock him out there...were they?

"Exactly why I wanted the door to be shut in the first place," the brunette said in a generally emotionless voice, turning the page slowly. "Did you know, Gilbert, that you look vaguely like an old grandpa when you make that expression?"

"Shut up, Lovino!"

Feliciano turned and looked at Elizavéta with an apologetic expression. "Don't mind them, Lizzie, they're always like that! Lovino actually likes to pick on everyone...but he's my brother, so I still love him lots!"

Elizavéta's eyes glinted. "Twincest," she whispered to herself.

"What was that?"

Elizavéta blinked, and then smiled at Feliciano's curious expression. "You don't need to know," she said wisely, patting him on the head.

"It was probably some girl thing anyway," Lovino commented from the couch. He looked up briefly from his magazine and yelped, bringing the article up to his chin reflexively when he saw Elizavéta's face hovering not inches from his own.

"Pardon?"

"Pardon _what_?"

"What was it that you said about girls?"

"Oh my god, don't say anything about girls in front of that psycho bitch!" Gilbert gasped from the door, setting down all of Elizavéta's bags in the main hallway. "I swear, she's sexist!"

Lovino opened his mouth to argue but was cut off by a much louder voice that seemed to float over from the top of the second floor banister. "Hahahaha! She's here! She's here!" Elizavéta looked up just in time to see a blond-haired boy jumping down from the second floor, causing Feliciano to scream rather loudly.

"You git!" Another blond had been behind the first, his face red as he looked over the railing to see the blond that jumped stand up straight and fix his white hoodie. "You're so stupid! You could have hurt yourself!"

"Wouldn't have been the first time, now would it?" Lovino frowned, turning back to his magazine as Elizavéta looked up in wonder to stare at the new additions to the huddle downstairs.

"Oh, Artie, you're just not happy because I didn't hurt myself so you didn't get an excuse to fuss over me," the blond on the ground floor said, turning his head up and smiling at 'Artie', who turned an even deeper shade of red and spluttered indignantly. He was also wearing white, but it came in the form of an overly large shirt with a round, sagging collar that Elizavéta had the feeling wasn't his.

"Weren't you guys the ones that called me?" Elizavéta couldn't help calling out. Both boys looked at each other, the blond on the ground floor with a smug smile, Arthur with an irritated raise of his thicker-than-natural eyebrows, before turning back to her.

"Yup!" the one in the hoodie...Alfred, Elizavéta remembered...said cheerfully. "That was fun, but I got yelled at later for not using the long distance phone. How's the US of A doing without my awesome presence?"

"It's...fine?"

"That's Alfred and Arthur!" Feliciano piped up happily, twirling and jumping until he was standing in front of Alfred, smiling at Elizavéta. "Gilbert always says that Arthur has a 'stick up his ass', and everyone always calls Alfred a 'psycho mockingbird on crack'!"

"Also known as the shameless couple here," Lovino muttered darkly. Gilbert's eyes glinted and he opened his mouth to retort, but then frowned and stopped. Alfred, meanwhile, seemed to either have bad or selective hearing, since he didn't bother with Feliciano and Lovino's introductions. He grinned, running forward and crushing Elizavéta into a gigantic bear hug.

"Finally! Another American in the house! Look, look, Artie, bask in the glow!"

"Sure, sure, you dolt," Arthur muttered halfheartedly, walking down the circling staircase set at the back of the house (white, of course) and coming up besides Alfred, grabbing and tweaking his ear harshly. Alfred squeaked loudly and let go of Elizavéta, the girl gasping for air once the pressure was off her lungs. "My apologies about Alfred, Elizavéta. If you can't tell, it's been a while since we've had visitors."

"I'm...I'm alive," Elizavéta coughed.

Alfred, who was still massaging his ear, whined, "God, Artie, can't you ever kill the other ear? I swear, it's always this one! I already lost the feeling in it."

"Then I _advise_ you to use your brain more," Arthur snapped, turning away from Alfred to sit down on the coffee table, turning the television on.

"Who says that he's got one?" Gilbert snorted above the rather loud sound of some random soap opera, moving to the refrigerator to grab a soda. "You should know that, of all people, Arthur." Arthur rolled his eyes from his position.

"I'm in denial."

Feliciano turned back to Elizavéta, rocking cheerfully on the balls of his feet. "What did you talk about in that phone call that they made to you, Lizza-chan? For some reason Arthur won't talk about it!"

Arthur looked like he had been reminded of something terrible that he had been trying to forget and squeezed his eyes shut. "That's because it was _embarrassing_," he groaned, lowering his head into his hands. "Alfred is to never lay his hands on a phone call that is used for a business purpose ever again."

"Hey, I was lightening the mood!" Alfred interjected. "And besides, with the way you were making things go, we'd never get the book back. Artie was never good at debate. Which reminds me, Liz, you _did_ bring it, right?" Elizavéta blinked. Say what now?

And before Elizavéta could bat an eyelash, Gilbert was in front of her.

"The girl just got here, Alfred," Gilbert snarled. "Cut her some slack. Let her rest. She'll give it to us when she feels like it."

"Give what? The book?"

"No, your money," Lovino said sarcastically. "We're not picky." Everyone ignored him.

"Who said I was going to give it to you guys at all?" Elizavéta snapped before she could help herself. When five pairs of eyes fixed themselves on her, she didn't back down the least. The one thing that bugged her the most was people trying to stick up for her. However, looking at Feliciano's strangely crushed face, she backpedaled immediately. Even if they had been weird so far, they were still welcoming her into their own house. "I mean, I will give it back, but I really do want to finish reading it first."

Arthur surprised Elizavéta by paling. "You read? The entire story?"

"Yeah. Why, what about it?"

"Do you...do you remember what happened?" Elizavéta frowned. What kind of a question was that? She was beginning to regret coming to the mansion if all anyone was going to do was interrogate her. Her arms crossed protectively under her chest.

"Duh, I remember." Arthur's eyes closed at this and he started tugging on his right glove one finger at a time, his expression slightly pained. Elizavéta hadn't even noticed him wearing them before, but her eyes were suddenly glued to them for some reason. Who wore gloves indoors? Feliciano eyed Arthur's movements and his chocolate orbs widened drastically.

"Hey, Arthur, don't make rash decisions," Alfred said suddenly, grabbing the smaller blond's wrist with his fingers. "We can think this out, and everything would be fine. So just...just put back on that glove." Arthur hesitated but didn't make another move. Lovino peered at the pair over his magazine before sighing and sitting up, tossing the article on the coffee table.

"You all are making such a big deal about this," he said irritably. "I feel like a soap opera's being shot in this house. Arthur, it's not like Elizavéta would tell. And even if she did, in this case, we would be able to dispose of her quickly without anyone else finding out. You guys don't have to be so dramatic about it." Elizavéta narrowed her eyes. _Dispose of her_?

"And what do we tell Lili?" Arthur asked quietly.

"Does Lili even _know_ that Elizavéta's here?" Alfred exploded. He looked accusingly into each of his house-mates eyes. All of them either looked away or looked slightly pissed. Though at this point, Elizavéta had no clue at why they would be pissed. Hell, she had no clue all of what was going on. "Feliciano, does she know that Elizavéta's here?"

"Well...I originally thought that Gilbert was going to clear it up with Lili before he dragged Lizza-chan here..." Feliciano stuttered.

"It was a last minuet thing!" Gilbert snarled. "There was no way I would know that the girl I'm supposed to get the book from is gonna tail me back here! I didn't have any time to make a call!"

"The airplane flight, Gilbert," Arthur said slowly, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. Gilbert spluttered, trying to find an excuse, before rounding on another boy.

"Lovino! Shouldn't you have seen Elizavéta coming? Why didn't you tell Lili?!"

"Oh, that," Lovino said uninterestedly, looking at his fingernails. "I did tell her." The other boys gave exploding sighs. "She wasn't too pleased with the idea though, and told me that Elizavéta could stay as long as she returned the book and stayed away from us."

The others silenced.

"Lili...Lili said that?" Alfred asked.

"Mmm, Lili said that she would like her book back," Feliciano said, chewing on his bottom lip and looking up in contemplation. "Vash was the one that said Lizza-chan had to stay away from us. Right, Lovi?"

"Same thing," Lovino said in a bored tone.

"Stay away?" Arthur snorted. "She's living in the same house! You can't stay away from people that live in the same house as you."

"Vash must want _us_ to stay away from _her_," Alfred frowned, crossing his arms in front of his body. "So according to Vash, we're just supposed to walk around the house, pretending that Elizavéta doesn't exist? That doesn't sound very fair to me."

Gilbert looked sideways to see a very confused and slightly hurt Elizavéta and sighed. "Feliciano, you want to take Elizavéta up to her room?" Feliciano jumped up immediately at the request and grabbed Elizavéta's wrist.

"Come on, Lizza-chan, let me show you around!" he offered, beginning to tow her up the marble staircase. He tossed a final look at the group downstairs before rounding the bend, pulling Elizavéta with a force that she wouldn't have believed that the little guy had.

"Whoa, Feli, slow down!" Elizavéta commanded as she stumbled on the top stair. Her balance thrown off, her toe stubbed on the carpet and she crashed to the ground. Feliciano, however, didn't seem to notice her tripping and tugged a few times before he looked down to see a pissed Elizavéta sprawled on the floor.

"Oh, oh, I'm so sorry, Lizza-chan!" Feliciano exclaimed, bending down immediately to help the girl to her feet. When Elizavéta gave a huff and brushed the dirt off her skinny jeans, she looked up to see Feliciano almost in tears. Her motherly instinct kicked in immediately.

"Oh, Feli, I'm fine! See, I'm all okay. That fall didn't do much," she said warmly, gesturing up and down her entire body. Feliciano's bottom lip trembled more and he gave a loud, shuddering sigh, as if he was trying to keep in a wail. Elizavéta shushed him softly, pulling him into the first door she saw. "Don't cry, doll, don't cry!"

The boy shook his head quickly, covering his eyes with his hands. Elizavéta gently closed the door behind her and tiptoed to Feliciano. "I'm so, so sorry, Lizza-chan!" His voice was muffled by his fingers, so Elizavéta could only hear a watered-down version of the words that he wanted to use. "I can't believe that Alfred and Arthur and Lovino and Gilbert would say bad things about you in front of your face like that, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Shh, shh," Elizavéta whispered, sitting Lovino down on the bed that happened to be in the room. "Don't cry, Feliciano, please don't cry anymore. It's okay, it's okay, I'm not offended in any way!"

"Y-Y-You must hate us now!" Feliciano wailed. "I c-can't sa-say sorry enough! They're not always l-like that, Lizza-chan! They're usually really nice and selfless and-and they can't cook pasta worth shit but I s-still love them because we've b-been together forever and...and..."

"I love you guys, Feliciano, I love you guys very, very much," Elizavéta shushed. "They just must be a little tired today, that's all! I believe you, just don't cry anymore, doll. You're tearing my heart apart."

Feliciano sniffled again, but wiped a hand across his tears. Elizavéta snatched up a handkerchief from a table next to her and handed to him. "T-Thank you, L-Lizza-chan," Feliciano said shakily, following it with a trembling laugh. "Y-You're really, really nice, too. It-It'll be fun having you in the house." Elizavéta smiled at him and pulled him into a hug.

"It's going to be fun staying here."

Feliciano gave a final sniffle and then looked around him. His face fell immediately. "Oh no, this is Alfred and Arthur's room!" he cried, jumping to his feet. Elizavéta blinked, but she straightened as well, looking around.

The room looked like an explosion of both messy and clean. The bed that she had hastily sat Feliciano down on was one of the cleaner surfaces, with the sheets laid over smoothly and what looked like a stuffed bear sitting on top of the pillows. The dresser and desk, however, was a different story. There were mugs stacked haphazardly all over any flat plain on the desk, paper and a laptop balanced precariously on a pack of pencils. There was a door at the end, which Elizavéta guessed was the bathroom.

And of course, everything was an eye blinding white.

"So they really do share a bed," Elizavéta said slowly, a maniacal grin starting to stretch across her face. She made a move to examine the room, but Feliciano grabbed her arm quickly and dragged her out of the room and into the hallway, sighing with relief when he heard voices still conversing in the living room.

"That could have ended messily," Feliciano sighed. His face then turned into horror when he realized that he was still holding onto the handkerchief. "That...Lizza-chan, you wouldn't have taken this from inside the...?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, that was on the bedside table."

"..." Feliciano took the handkerchief and stuffed it into his pocket, looking pale. "I'll just burn it," Elizavéta heard Feliciano mutter. He towed her into the room across from Alfred and Arthur's. "I'll burn it and scatter the ashes and Arthur will think it's Gilbert..." He closed the door behind him and turned to smile at Elizavéta, his attitude changing immediately. "This is the room that I share with Lovino!"

Though this room was as white as the others, it seemed like Feliciano and Lovino took every chance they could to fill the room with...tomatoes? There seemed to be a gigantic stuffed tomato sitting on the large bed in the center, with posters of tomatoes with creepy smiles lining the walls. Shoved in a corner was a desk with what looked like clock innards strewn across the surface. The dresser, desk, and windowsill seemed to be lined with...

"Music boxes," Elizavéta said, stunned. "There's so many of them in here. Do you collect music boxes, Feliciano?"

"Nope!" Feliciano chirped happily, shaking his head. "I make them!" Elizavéta tripped again on the carpet, this time in surprise. Feliciano reacted quickly enough to snap out a hand to steady her. "Careful, there might still be some spare parts lying around the ground! Do you like them, Lizza-chan?"

"They're...they're beautiful." Elizavéta's eyes widened as she stared at all of the different music players around the room. There was one that was shaped like a piano. Feliciano danced over to that one and turned the key a few times. Once he let go, a tinkling classical melody rang out, the tiny keys on the piano moving in time with the notes. "That's amazing, Feliciano! How long did that take you?"

"A month," the small boy admitted, turning to Elizavéta with a large, curling smile. "They usually take a while, but the really simple ones take only two weeks." Feliciano gestured towards a glittering snowman with inset jewels making it's eyes and buttons. He popped open the head and twisted the key before letting go, the new Christmas melody replacing the dwindling classical one.

"These are amazing, Feliciano. You really have a talent! You should sell these, you would make so much money!" Feliciano's eyes seemed to darken momentarily as his mouth frowned just the slightest before he got his spark back.

"I don't really like selling these. I give them to the others on special occasions." Feliciano gasped suddenly. "I just remembered, I even made one for you, Lizza-chan!" He bounced over to the messy desk with what Elizavéta now realized was _music box _pieces and picked up a rather large music box from amidst the bits. "Isn't it pretty? Alfred tried to steal it so he could listen to it, but that didn't work out so well. Lovino had been sleeping then. Here you go, Lizza-chan!"

Elizavéta took the mechanism, stunned. It looked like a frosted cake—completely white with gold trimmings. There was a large pearl set in the center of the top with gold veins running around the perimeter and stretching like a star to the edges of the cover, circling the rim of the lid with swirling designs and running down the height of the box like spokes of a wheel. The entire thing was dusted with the lightest silver, making the entire music box look like more of a museum artifact than a common entertainment tool. Elizavéta's hands began trembling.

"Feliciano, I can't accept—"

"Open it, open it!" the boy chirped excitedly, jumping up and down with anticipation. Elizavéta hesitated, and then found the clutch and pressed a button.

The lid swung up immediately, revealing a plush, red interior of velvet. At the center, on a small round platform, was a glass bird. Elizavéta felt for the key on the side of the box and wound it up. The clicks came easily as Elizavéta wound for what felt like ages. She frowned just slightly. "Feliciano, is this supposed to be like this?"

"It's a long song," Feliciano said, grinning broadly. "Lovino found it for me when he was playing one of his video games."

"Huh," Elizavéta commented, finally reaching the point where she had to struggle to turn the key more. She let go of it. After a pause, the music began.

And at once, Elizavéta wasn't there anymore.

Her eyes closed. Though the tune was slow, it managed to be lilting, sweet, and...nostalgic at the same time. Elizavéta suddenly felt like she had stood there before, perhaps in some other world, in some other place, but most definitely...she had most definitely been in this house. The memory was both fuzzy and fresh, bringing feelings of despair, hope, and longing at the same time. Elizavéta's heart ached as it wanted to reach out towards someone that she couldn't see, didn't know. It sounded like the whispers of morning...the euphoria of living...the acceptance of evil. It sounded like an innocent girl tossed in a world she didn't understand, it sounded like a few people trapped in a hallucination they didn't want to be in. It sounded like a brother desperate in a race against time...or was it _for_ time?

Elizavéta exhaled slowly, trying desperately to remember this tune. She had heard it before—she had heard it so many times before that she was able to predict the next notes. But...from where...? Her eyes opened slowly, looking at the small glass bird that twirled, tilting it's head back one time and leaning forward another.

She had stared at this bird once, at the exactly same time before. It was there in her mind, she was sure of it, but it was just a hair breadth away. She tried focusing on the small, detailed face and the tiniest bit of sorrow weaved into the melody, but the more she chased after the one memory, the further it flew away. Finally, giving up, she closed her eyes just as the song dwindled down to a silence.

"L-L-Lizza-chan? Y-You're crying."

Elizavéta's eyes snapped open to see Feliciano's worried face in front of hers. Giving a shout, she jumped back, just managing to hold onto the music box. Feliciano was wringing his hands, his wide brown eyes worried. "Are you okay, Lizza-chan? Y...You started crying after...after you closed your eyes." Feliciano lifted a hand and brushed a spot under Elizavéta's eye, bringing it up so she could see the small tear suspended on his finger. "See?"

Elizavéta's hand automatically raised to feel her cheek. Sure enough, there was the wetness. Feliciano dug around in his pocket until he brought out Arthur's handkerchief again, passing it to Elizavéta this time. "Looks like we needed this a lot today," she laughed weakly, bringing the fabric up to dab at her eyes. Feliciano looked at her with worry.

"Do...Do you not like the music box?" he asked nervously. "If it makes you unhappy, I can make you a new one! Is it the design or the music? I can fix either!"

"No...Feliciano it's...it's perfect." Elizavéta flipped the handkerchief inside out and wiped at her other eye. "I just...what is this song called again? I think I might have heard it before."

"O-Oh! I think it was called _Fragment of a Dream_."

~*~-~*~

_Once upon a time._

_There was a god and a human girl._

_The human girl was selfish. Though her outer appearance her beautiful, her real personality was as rotten and disgusting as a demon. She cheated and corrupted, plotted and destroyed. Her true nature scared away many other humans, and over time, the god finally turned his attention to the human girl. _

_The first thing that the god tried was to send a few of his messengers down to the girl to force her to change her ways. With close to no persuading, the two angels departed from the god and descended to earth to meet with the human girl._

_The human girl had never seen angels before. When the two messengers appeared before the girl, she immediately captured them and kept them locked up in a cage. When the god heard of this, he was furious. He immediately cursed the girl so that she would never die as long as the two angels were still with her. The girl, seeing this as a blessing, thanked the god, unaware of the consequences of eternal life. _

_Time passed. _

_The girl's parents grew older, older, and died. The girl's heart crumbled with a pain that she had never felt before. Only when her parents were missing did she feel how attached she had been to them. A few years later, while she kept her appearance of a teenager, the girl's brothers and sisters reached their old age and died, one by one._

_At this point the girl was terrified. She wasn't used to feeling the loneliness she instigated on others. Her only company were the two angels that stayed with her day and night, not because they chose to, but because the girl had kept them locked up even after so many years._

_Finally, at a request of one of the messengers, the girl tried to speak to the god. She looked up towards the heavens and prayed, "Please_

…

…

Elizavéta frowned at the page, turning it back and forth under her flashlight. She had been in the middle of reading the third story, but the pages after were completely blank. Either that or they were torn out. Her brow furrowed but she closed the book, setting it on her new bedside table and burrowing into her covers, turning off and setting her flashlight under her pillow before rolling around and falling asleep.

Her music box, which was set on a dresser across the room, tinkled to a stop.

* * *

**So much forshadowing, it hurts the eyes. XD**

**Hungary's music box is Fragment of a Dream from the Chrono Cross soundtrack. You guys should really listen to it, it's really pretty! XD**

**Shoutouts~**

**iRishou, RingoNeko 201, WOKgeotobi, 030artastic, dragoneian, Petit-Sapphire-Jai, Soy Soy Joo, s y n e s t h e t i x, LaRequinne, Darona, new fan, Teardroppe Workshoppe, bombayxprodigy, LeriaCossato aaaand~**

**shego219! Thanks again to everyone! n.n**

**Reviewers will be showered with stars provided by Britannia Angel~**


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